Devon prays to feel better, "the Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." Daniel sits in the corner of the room, picking at the dirt under his fingernails, making mental notes to clean them when everything settles down. The remainder of their close family waits outside, Devon adamantly insisting that they have some time to say goodbye. Thus far, all Devon has done is recite Bible verses that Daniel can’t even remember, his lapsed Catholicism a point of contention between them.
“What do we even do now?” Devon asks, looking up from her spot across the room. Daniel just shrugs, doesn’t bother looking up, let’s his sister’s words go in one ear and out the other. “Daniel?” she asks, and her voice is tempered with annoyance.
“What?”
Devon rolls her eyes and the tension that rises is almost palpable. It’s been like that for the last few days – Devon talking and Daniel not talking at all, Devon crying and Daniel vanishing from the hospital for hours at a time, showing up with a drink or a joint rolling through his system.
“You’re acting like such an asshole. Mom…” she pauses and Daniel eventually looks up, a challenging look on his face, goading her forwards, “… is dead. Mom’s dead. And you’re sitting there like an ungrateful bastard, not sad, not man enough to talk to me about whatever the fuck is going on.”
Daniel stands as she speaks, his expression having changed from challenging to angry. “Fuck you, Devon,” he spits, rubbing his fingers over his knuckles as he speaks, a tick he’d picked up whenever he was coming down off a high. Now, it serves as stress relief, as a means of calming himself down.
She echoes his movements, standing and closing the gap between them. Devon’s hands hit Daniel’s chest hard and fast, open palms, shoving him backwards no more than half a step. “Fuck me? Fuck you, you fucking oaf!”
The words don’t sting or hurt or even really register before Daniel responds. “Go fuck yourself, Devon. As far as I’m fucking concerned, our mother has been dead the moment didn’t remember to come to our fucking birthday parties, didn’t remember to tell my kid or your fucking satan spawn that she loved them, and didn’t remember who the fuck we were.”
Without another word, Daniel turns on his heel and leaves the hospital room, slamming the door behind him. He reminds himself that the Bible is bullshit, that it doesn't mean anything, and that he isn't broken hearted, because his mother doesn't deserve it at all.